A Tribute to the Headbanging Nerds of VIT!

So. Riviera. Apparantly it is an abbreviation of "Revival of an era". I don't know how the 'e' changes into an 'i', but when I asked someone on volunteer duty about it, he gave me a condescending look and gruffly replied "Poetic fuckin' justice." I gave him a puzzled look and his smug expression distorted into one of amusement, then confusion and finally profound cogitation. Then he tried to redress. "Poetic...freedom?" I shrugged and walked away. Despite being slightly amused by the plethora of emotions passing over his face, I was in the mood to explore this "1 crore budget grand event".



Headbangers Hall. I've got to give it to the authorities. They have balls. They invite a couple of hotshots in the music industry(some guitarist of some unknown reputed Indian band and some unkown reputed person not from any band) and seat them on precarious plastic seats in the middle of what I can best describe as a small bivouac in the middle of a tiny patch of grass called Greeno. What's more? The bands have to perform in this minuscule place consigned to them on a bloody 260 acre campus! Anyway, I found myself amidst the largely static crowd, reminiscing about our fests back in school. Contrary to the musically enlightened masses of about 90% of the schools back in Kolkata, the tiny Shamiana was packed with students, half of whom had no business being there. The speakers were about 2 metres away from the audience on either side and I was almost blown away every time some hard hitting band climbed up on stage and sought to impress the judges. Now, rarely have I felt anything so bestial being vivified inside myself. I generally remain composed even when everyone around me loses control, but I guess it works the other way round too. In the company of nerds and geeks, I become the freak. Now most of the bands were pretty amazing. Despite the fact that they were all either Cradle of Flith or Linkin Park wannabes( the vocalist choosing to rant out the words in a hoarse, what seemed demonic kind of voice rather than sing), what they did with the instruments was out of this world. I headbanged to the music, keeping time to the blood rushing to my brain, until I heard an ominous crick that I assumed was from the back of my neck.I felt the veins jump out of my arms, the phlegm jump out of my lungs and for an instant, I thought I felt my eyeballs jump out of their sockets. They did not of course. It was only one of my lenses that just decided to pop out of my right eye and be free. I'm not exactly blind without my visual apparatus. I am purblind. So I found myself standing, half blind, amidst a sweltering, jumping crowd of retards transforming into something even more vile - geeks unleashing the animal within! It smelt of Forum without the air conditioning and perfume. It smelt like Someplace Else without the haze of smoke and the intoxicating revelry of booze. In short, it smelt pretty repugnant. There was one band that fucked up a song by Skillet. For those of you who haven't heard of Skillet, it's a band which would have had potential if they only sacked their vocalist. That guy has a voice that resembles something like a hundred buffaloes bellowing whilst submitting themselves completely to the almighty god of livestock. Anyway, the vocalist of this band probably was the god of livestock. Although he might have been an imposter as he muddled up the lyrics(which is the only agreeable aspect of any of Skillet's songs).

Then there was Armour of God. The name is misleading as there was nothing Godly about them. They were Cradle of Filth. They were filth in a cradle. They played like pros, and sang like hoes. Seriously, even if I were a Slipknot fan, I'd be appalled by that kind of music. I don't even want to go into it. Suffice to say, it set an entire row of geeks headbanging. Hell, at one point I even heard one of them say to his dork of a friend, "We are so cool!" Were I his friend( God forbid I ever be) , I'd strongly contradict him.
"No. you are not cool. You are a nerd. You wear a formal shirt and trousers every day of your life, and are not aware of the fact that pulling said trousers all the way to your chest makes you a disgrace to anything on the face of the earth that wears clothes! You headbang like you're giving head to some imaginary muppet friend of yours, as if you're afraid your head will just shoot off your shoulders. You have facial hair that would astound the most fanatic of the Jihadists, and you probably never shave it off because your mom never gifted you a shaving kit for your birthday, choosing instead to stuff your mouth with 'payesh' or 'rasam' whatever be your provenance, and you feed your brain with stuff you mug up from text-books. You have never been given a sound thrashing in your life, and as long as you lick the balls of all the teachers you can possibly lick the balls of, you probably never will be. What you are, friend, is the filth of society, an outcast whom all but your own ilk of two or three nerds resent. What you are is a dork!"

Today's the first day of Riviera. Vishal-Shekar in the evening. Really can't wait for it!